"Jenna, what's wrong?" He knelt in front of her, his body filling her view even as she refused to meet his eyes.
She had been avoiding him so well; switching to another OB/GYN for her post-partum visits and trying to clear her mind—and conscience—of the months during her pregnancy. She had been doing ok too, pretending he had never even existed. And here he was, still smelling of aftershave and deodorant. The smell sent her reeling with nostalgia and longing, which led to more guilt, which led to more tears.
"Jenna? You're scaring me. Should I call someone? An ambulance?" The anxiety in his voice was just so typical.
"No, Jim. I'm fine." She lifted her face and there he was, less than a foot away. His eyes were wide with worry, his too-thin lips pursed. He hadn't shaved for a few days, which she knew was very unlike him, and his hair stuck out from his head all haywire, as though he hadn't combed it that morning. She felt the endorphins rush through her at the sight of him, so near.
"I'm sorry," he stumbled to back away, realizing how close he was. He ended up tipping backwards off the sidewalk, landing on his ass in the street. Jenna couldn't help but smile as she tried to wipe the tears from her face. He shot her a wounded expression as he righted himself and spoke again. "You were just uh, just crying. I didn't know if everything was ok. I mean, clearly it's not, but I was wondering if it was a 'call the authorities' type not ok or a 'leave me the hell alone'– I'm sorry I'll stop talking," he cut off quickly, his voice dropping deep, noticing the emptiness in her face, her lack of response to his rambling.
"Yeah, no, I'm fine. Just fine. Just, waiting for the bus, right?" Jenna looked up at the sign and laughed bitterly. Before she knew it, the laugh had opened whatever inside of her had been holding the tears in, and a sob wracked her body. Jim's eyes widened as he watched her hunch over, holding her mid-section and trying to quell the tears before they could start in earnest. She failed, and they swept her away, making her shake with their force.
Jim stood there, speechless in front of her as Jenna hid her face. She watched his feet as he sidled closer towards the bench and sat next to her, patting her stiffly on the arm. She flinched at his touch and he yanked his hand away quickly.
"Sorry," he said.
"It's just, it's been a while since anybody touched me. God I'm sorry, that sounds pathetic," Jenna guffawed through her tears at her words.
"No, it doesn't. It's uh—it's ok if you'd like to cry on my shoulder. I mean," he hastily corrected, "you can cry, and I'm here, and it doesn't mean anything for us like, romantically or anything. Sometimes, you just need to cry. It's ok."
"I'm fine," Jenna coughed, her voice thick. Jim held his arm out awkwardly and for a moment she sat there, wiping at her eyes with hands that were already wet, contemplating. Then she leaned over, awkwardly. He didn't move his arm, letting her lean on it as she needed. Her sobs came silently, as he slowly began to rub her back, his hand moving in small circles on her shoulder.
"Oh goodness, I'm sorry I've gone and messed your shirt up," she sniffled after a minute, pulling away.
"Shhh," he whispered, pulling her in again, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. They stayed like that for a little while. Finally, Jenna pulled away, this time more concretely.
"Ok, I'm all cried out now. I'm sorry. You must think I'm psycho or something."
"Quite the contrary, actually." Jim replied. "I'm worried. As a doctor, I mean. How long have you been like this?"
"Like what?" Jenna asked. "You caught me at a bad time. I promise I'm not always like this."
"And where's Lulu?" He asked. Jenna's chin began to wobble. "Ok, never mind, sorry to bring it up, I don't need to know," he backtracked, confusion written all over his face.
"No, no, Jesus, is there anything that doesn't make me cry?" Jenna wiped a single tear away from her cheek with her shirt. Jim didn't answer.
They sat there for a few minutes without speaking, Jenna craning her neck to look down the road. Jim crossed his hands in his lap, tapping his foot, not wanting to intrude on Jenna's thoughts. After the third time she glanced down the road, he spoke up.
"I hate to tell you this now, but the bus doesn't actually run from here after 8pm," Jim glanced at her as he spoke, as if gauging whether or not more tears would be shed by sharing this news.
"Why did you wait this long to tell me?"
"You looked like you were thinking about something."
"Yeah, like how I'd sure like the bus to come!"
"I'm sorry, I just didn't want to interrupt." He looked chagrined as Jenna glared at him. The glare quickly broke down as she realized how screwed she was, stranded out in Stanton Grove with no way home.
"Wait, if there's no buses, what are you doing here?" she asked.
"I didn't want to leave you alone."
"Oh."
"Where are you trying to go?"
"Home. I mean, Dawn and Ogie's."
"Oh, well, you're a ways away."
"I gathered that much," Jenna replied sarcastically, looking pointedly at the sign across the street.
"Obviously, I'm sorry, jeez, um, how did you get here?" he asked.
"Oh, I was just going on a walk."
"That's one long walk."
"Yeah," Jenna sighed. "Wait, if there's no busses, why are you here? Like, why did you come here?"
"That's my house up there," Jim pointed to a house on the first little hill in the development, about two hundred yards away. "I saw you sitting here from there and you looked like you needed help."
Of course. He'd seen all her hysterics.
"I'm sorry, I'm being horribly rude. Would you like to come inside? You can use my phone to call somebody, or I could give you a ride home after nine. . ."
"Yeah, actually. That would be nice. The phone call, I mean. I won't trouble you for a ride," Jenna replied.
They walked in silence on the wide sidewalk up the tree-lined boulevard to enter the neighborhood. Jenna had only been there a few times as a kid to attend classmates birthday parties, back when it was the done thing to invite the entire class. Once cliques and friend groups broke out, the poor kids mostly hung out with each other and the Stanton Grove kids stayed among their own—it didn't hurt that most of them also went to the private school in the next town over as well. Now, walking through the neighborhood she hadn't seen in easily over a decade, Jenna felt a wave of nostalgia and regret. How different her life would have been if she had grown up in a place like this—two story homes with two-car garages that seemed to always have a car parked out front anyways. How could one family need so many cars? She had always wondered as a kid.
Jim opened the door to his own house without a key—living in a neighborhood like this, you would think people would want to lock up their things, but clearly safety was no issue. His house was a slate grey color—no car parked outside.
Inside it was dark and felt empty. There was a little entryway with a small shoe rack and coat closet. Jenna noticed as she pulled off her worn sneakers that the only shoes on the rack were men's; perhaps Francine kept hers somewhere else? It seemed a bitter thing to become aware of on your first time visiting your ex-lovers home.
"Would you like some water?" Jim asked, leading her back through the house to the kitchen.
"Sure," Jenna replied, taking in the cozy space in front of her. The kitchen sink had a massive bay window in front of it, through which Jenna realized how he had seen her; from this viewpoint on the hill, the road in front of the development was completely visible, the bus stop especially clear with the spotlight of the street lamp over it. Off to the side—in front of another massive window—a wooden dining table with six chairs sat. Jim flicked a switch and the small lamp hanging above it turned on, casting the space in a warm glow. He slid a full glass of water in front of one of the seats and lifted the landline from it's place on the counter next to the table to put it in front of Jenna as she sat down.
After taking a deep gulp of water, she dialed the familiar number and pressed the receiver to her ear. It picked up after the first ring, and she could picture Dawn snatching the phone up, cradling it against her cheek, her dimples emerging in a perfect picture of worry.
"Jenna? Are you ok? Where are you? This is Jenna, right?"
"Yeah, it's me. I'm so sorry Dawn, I just got completely lost."
"We were worried sick, we thought maybe Earl had gotten you or something, and when we rang your phone and realized you had left it here" Dawn's voice edged up with angst. Suddenly, Jim seemed to realize he was eavesdropping and sprung up from his seat next to Jenna, busying himself with something at the sink.
"No no, no Earl or nothing. I just started walking and lost track of time. I'm fine."
"Where are you calling from?"
"Oh uhh, Jim found me. I mean—you remember Dr. Pomatter?"
"Oh. Yeah, I remember him." Her voice was impassive—Dawn had never known about Jenna's affair. It seemed strange now that she didn't know about something that had so fundamentally changed Jenna's life.
"I'm calling from his house. The trouble is, I left my wallet at home with my phone, so I don't have a way to get bus fare back, and the busses don't run out this late either, apparently. Could you send Ogie round to get me? I swear up and down I'm paying you for watching Lulu and doing all this. I owe y'all big time—I won't take no for an answer."
"Oh hun, remember Ogie took his car into the shop today? He doesn't go back for it til tomorrow. I'm so sorry."
Jenna felt her stomach sink. She would have to walk home.
"Oh—ok. Sure. I'll find a way home then. I'll hurry, but if I don't make it in time feel free to give Lulu the milk I pumped earlier, and could you put the lotion on her elbows where the skin is red? And I put extra diapers—"
"We've got her, hun. Just hurry home. Can we call you a taxi?"
"No no, I'm fine. I'll just walk. That's how I got here in the first place."
"Jenna, that sounds dangerous."
"Shh, I'm fine. Kiss Lulu for me. I'll be home soon."
"But—"
Jenna hung up the phone, staring at her half full glass of water.
"You know I won't let you walk home, right?" Jim returned to the table, sliding into the seat across from hers.
"I'll be fine. I sort of remember the way I took, I'll just backtrack."
"It's dark and unsafe and you have no way to call for help. Absolutely not. I can take you home in— "he broke off and checked his wrist watch. "Ten minutes. Just sit tight til then. You never told me earlier how Lulu was."
"She's fine," Jenna replied dismissively. "But why can you only take me home after nine?" Jenna asked, consulting her own watch. "Not that I'm planning on taking you up on that offer."
"Oh, uhh, it's a bit of a long story," Jim replied hesitantly. Just then, Jenna heard the front door open. "Which you are about to find out much sooner than I intended," Jim whispered, looking at his hands nervously. It was only then that Jenna noticed—his left hand had no ring on it. She didn't have the time to ask him what had happened before the smell of perfume—Chanel no. 5—filled the room.
"Ok, I filled up the tank—" Francine walked in confidently, stopping in her tracks at the sight of Jenna. She wore pink scrubs and sneakers, an exhausted look on her face, her hair in a messy pony. Her eyes tracked up and down Jenna's entire body, taking her in. Then they swung over to Jim, examining his damp shirt and mussed hair and settling on his eyes, now intently focused on the tabletop in front of him. Then she swung her gaze back to Jenna. "Oh. You. Jenna, right?"
Jenna stood, not knowing if this woman was a threat or not but not wanting to face it sitting. "Yeah. That's me."
Francine smiled, but her eyes were empty of happiness.
"See, I thought the first time I saw you, I would scream at you and hate you and maybe even hit you. I was so mad, you know, when I figured it all out. I just never thought that would be me, you know? But I guess it makes sense. He always liked charity cases." She laughed then, an empty, arching, cruel laugh. Jenna didn't know what to say.
"Here are the keys, Jim." Francine dropped them on the table where they clattered loudly. "I'm just going to pack some things quickly until my sister gets here. Try not to fuck her while I'm upstairs, ok?" She turned and whirled out of the room before Jim or Jenna could respond. Jenna slumped back down into her seat, her mouth open in a wide oh. Jim just kept looking at his hands, the same look of defeat owning his features.
